


only compass i need leads back to you

by raekentheory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon-Typical Violence, Historian Liam, M/M, Rated for swearing, Relic Hunter Theo, Treasure Hunting, Uncharted inspired, and the briefly glossed over bad guy deaths, use of guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raekentheory/pseuds/raekentheory
Summary: Theo—or Theodore Drake, as he’d have him believe—had come to Liam with a map, some old scribbles in Elizabethan shorthand, and a family history that apparently dated all the way back to Francis Drake himself. He’d promised a worthwhile adventure for Liam’s show, and the find of a lifetime, tracking down his great great however many great grandfather’s lost riches.Or, the one where Theo's a relic hunter and Liam's a historian with an expedition show. Based onUncharted: Drake's Fortune.





	only compass i need leads back to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlitterCake20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCake20/gifts).



> is it really a Secret Santa if I don't go overboard and show up four days late with Starbucks and a fic? No, it really isn't.
> 
> Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I can't tell you how excited I was when I saw your prompt. Like, I screeched for a good solid minute, because the moment I saw relic hunter thiam, my brain exploded with how they are _absolutely perfect_ as my two favourites from the Uncharted game series. So, I kind of got carried away with it? But I really hope you like it, because this was so much fun to write! Merry (belated) Christmas, girl <3
> 
> Not necessary for enjoyment:  
> \- Roughly follows the plot of the first game, but through Liam/Elena's eyes instead of Theo/Nate's. Some lines borrowed from the game.  
> \- title from Jamie Lidell's _Compass_

_“There must be a beginning of any great matter, but the continuing unto the end until it be thoroughly finished yields true glory.” - Sir Francis Drake_

* * *

 

The lost treasure of Francis Drake is something that historians like Liam—and relic hunters alike—have only ever _dreamt_ about. A wild goose chase that people in his community have been hunting down for decades without ever striking gold.

Liam, apparently, can now count himself among them. Multiple archeological digs,  noteworthy finds and a successful research show under his belt, and yet still, he’d led himself be played like a fool over the promise of a sought-after treasure and a handsome smile. And knowing that he _did_ find Theo attractive—that slippery bastard who’d conned his way into a ship, expedition funds and a bit of hired muscle with little more than some old writing on a weathered old map and a winning smile—well that was just salt in the wound, really.

He sighs, leaning back in the chair and mournfully hanging his head over the back. He can see the ocean outside the open window, can hear the breeze groaning between the docks as the sun sets. Normally it’d be a pretty sight, but all he can see when he looks at the horizon is his fucking boat driving away, the two assholes on it having a good laugh about how they’d gotten away with it while Liam was on the phone with his producer.

Lydia was absolutely going to kill him. And not just because they’d gotten the first boat blown up.

_“I’m here off the coast of Panama, where we recovered what we believe to be the coffin of legendary explorer Sir Francis Drake, who was buried at sea over 400 years ago.”_

Liam groans at the sound of his own voice, sort of tinny as it filters out through the speakers of the handheld camera. He swivels in his chair, eyeing Corey, who’s tucked into the corner of the office. He’s seated on a box, camera open in his lap as he replays that morning’s footage for the fourth time.

“Why are you still watching that?” Liam asks, just as he hears the crack of splintering wood, and his own derisive snort.

_“Are you sure you wanna be defiling your ancestors remains like that?”_

_“You make it sound so dirty,”_ Theo chuckles on the camera feed, and Liam can still picture his shit-eating grin as he’d looked up, crowbar propped against his knee and sea water glistening across his brow. “ _Besides, I thought you didn’t believe me.”_

“Still don’t,” Liam mutters, rolling his eyes.

Theo—or Theodore Drake, as he’d have them believe—had come to Liam with a map, some old scribbles in Elizabethan shorthand, and a family history that apparently dated all the way back to Francis Drake himself. He’d promised a worthwhile adventure for Liam’s show, and the find of a lifetime, tracking down his great great however many great grandfather’s lost riches.

“Turn that off, dude,” Liam presses, and Corey offers him a single, raised brow in question. “You were there, it’s not that cool.”

“We basically lived a short Indiana Jones movie,” Corey points out, amusement curling his mouth. False treasure, a shootout with literal pirates, and a fiery explosion that was going to cost him _so much money_ with no insurance.

“Yeah, except we have nothing to show for it,” Liam grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “We were more like on set extras. Seriously, that footage isn’t gonna get us anywhere. We’re dead in the water.”

_Just like our boat._

“Not quite,” a voice says, and Liam springs forward in his seat, righting himself and glancing towards the doorway. A familiar face stands there, hip cocked and leaning against the door jamb.

“Mason!” Liam grins, and behind him, Corey makes a noise of utter delight, slamming the camera view shut. He drops it unceremoniously onto Liam’s lap and waltzes past, throwing his arms around his husband, who immediately smothers him in kisses. Liam makes a noise of mild disgust in this throat. “Gross.”

“I’m sorry, my husband spent his morning get shot at,” Mason hums, leaning into Corey’s touch as the quieter man loops an arm around his waist. “Am I not allowed to be happy he made it out in one piece?”

“ _I_ spent my morning getting shot at,” Liam grumbles, fingers fiddling with the strap on the camera. The camera that Corey had kept rolling, ducking into the main cabin and staying hidden while Liam and Theo took care of the assault. His hands can still feel the heat of metal and the kick of the pistol he’d borrowed in the firefight, like a ghost lingering on his skin. He’d rarely used a gun before, but it was pretty much as point and shoot as a camera, y’know?

“Do _you_ want ‘I’m so happy you’re alive’ kisses, then?” Mason raises a brow, corner of his lips pulling up.

“No,” Liam chuckles, shaking his head. “But I’d settle for some good news.”

“Well,” Mason grins fully now, and it’s secretive. Mischievous, even. A dangerous look on his manager. “You remember how I made fun of you for wanting to spend our money on those GPS units?”

Liam’s heart skips excitedly in his chest, a quick and hopeful beat.

—

It turns out, it hadn’t been a waste of money after all. Although Mason had griped and complained when Liam had originally included them in the purchase order for this trip, it was a good thing he had. He’d met people like Theo before, relic hunters like him and his partner were about as untrustworthy as a pair of old, worn-out socks. It had been chance that they’d stolen one of the GPS trackers when they’d taken the second boat, but it was luck that was going to lead Liam right to them, using the one they’d left behind.

Asshole thought he could take his money, blow up his boat, _and_ leave him behind? Theo owed him, and Liam would get a story out of this one way or another.

Even if he has to do it alone, because Mason had benched his cameraman.

Liam understands. Corey’s never really been built for danger, for trekking his way through the jungle with little food and water, and one brush with death was enough to last him a lifetime, honestly.

Liam, on the other hand, has adrenaline singing in his blood and anticipation thundering in his ears. He loves researching, loves digging back into the past on paper as much as any good historian, but there’s something to be said about experiencing it yourself. About getting to see the lost temples and forgotten treasures of the world.

The GPS pings, and glancing down at it, Liam can see that he’s right on top of Theo, apparently. He frowns, tucking it back into his pocket and warily scanning the underbrush. The thing’s only accurate to about twenty meters, and in the middle of the jungle, it isn’t much help.

“Great, just great,” he mutters under his breath in frustration. He’s just ducking under a massive leaf when a distant, muffled popping startles him, and he ends up with a face full of greenery. He sputters, pushing it away from him and inching towards the wall of the temple he’s walking alongside.

He presses into the shadow of a ruined pillar, fingers resting uneasily on the pistol at his hip, and he waits.

One breath, then two, then several more as he counts up to a minute.

And then, the sound of running. Through the underbrush bursts _Theo_ of all people, and he skids to stop in the clearing, throwing a furtive, panicked glance over his shoulder. Was he the source of the gunfire, or was it someone chasing him?

Liam watches as the other man doubles over, palms flat against his knees, trying to catch his breath. He figures now’s a good a time as any, and he reaches out, fingers digging into Theo’s arm.

The man practically yelps as Liam yanks him behind cover, and when he spins to face him, the relic hunter’s got one fist drawn back to strike. Liam instinctively brings up his free hand to match, a punch at the ready. “Whoa!” He says placatingly.

Recognition dawns in Theo’s eyes—green, Liam notices from this close—and tension bleeds from his shoulders as he drops his guard. It’s the best shot Liam’s going to get. He swings, his punch landing just under the other man’s left eye; he yelps again, staggering back, hands on his face.

“What the fuck?” He hisses, glaring up at Liam between his fingers.

“That’s for leaving me at the dock!”

“Does it _look_ like something you’d want to—” Theo pauses, inhaling sharply through his nose. He huffs out a breath, dropping his voice low and glancing back the way he’d came. “What are you doing here?”

Liam scowls. “Listen, I’m a fantastic researcher. I can track down a couple of no-good tomb rob—”

Theo’s eyes widen, and he’s on the move before Liam can even blink. He crowds him up against the pillar, hands planted on the stone just over his shoulders. Liam’s left staring at Theo’s collarbone and throat, tilting his head to keep his nose from brushing against the bare skin visible there. He notes the mole on his left cheek that he hadn’t noticed before.

The relic hunter, meanwhile, isn’t even looking at him. His attention is focused on the path behind them, his eyes narrowed and his breathing slow, careful. The light filtering in through the trees catches on his disheveled hair and the bangs hanging low in his eyes, turning it all a soft golden-brown. There’s a streak of dirt smeared across his nose, and more on his face, mixed in with hs scruff. There’s very little space between them, and it’s sort of distracting, how ruggedly handsome he is.

Which is _absolutely_ not the train of thought his brain needs to be boarding right now. It is, after all, part of the reason he finds himself in trouble, currently, and in debt for an exploded boat.

As if on cue, several heavily armed men in military camo go racing past, shouting search patterns and orders to ‘ _hunt him down’_ between them, and that effectively brings Liam back to the present. Maybe Theo hadn’t been responsible for the earlier gunfire after all.

As they disappear from view, the other man finally looks down a him. Realization dawns in his green eyes at the close proximity, and he steps back as if burned, hands held flat and away from Liam. “Well, you’re down to one tomb robber now,” he explains, voice just as low but now eerily flat. “Derek’s—”

Theo cuts himself off abruptly, jaw clenched. He’s still close enough that Liam can see him shudder. “They shot him.”

He feels like an asshole. His throat tightens, and his next words don’t come easy, thick on his tongue. “I’m so sorry.” It’s not like he knew Derek very well, considering they’d met only briefly to talk logistics before Liam, Theo and Corey had boarded the boat and set out into the ocean. And then again when the man had flown in to rescue them from the burning rig.

But in those short moments, it had been clear that _they’d_ been close, him and Theo. Good friends, joking like they’d known each other a long time.

Poor guy.

Theo shakes his head. “We need to get out of here,” he says in the same flat, serious tone. “Please tell me you have a gun.”

Liam’s almost surprised he hadn’t noticed when he’d pinned him to the wall, but he’d clearly had other things on his mind. “Of course,” he nods, slipping it from the holster at his hips and handing it over. There’s no doubt Theo’s the better shot.

“Thanks.” He checks it over, flips off the safety, and steels his gaze, looking at Liam over his shoulder. “Grab one off the first asshole I drop. C’mon.”

And when he goes, Liam follows. It’s not quite what he had in mind when he’d pictured catching up to the relic hunter, but with adventure thrumming in his pulse, he’s not going to complain just yet.

Liam’s eyes widen as they duck through the temple, a sprawling mess of broken stone, winding moss and tall, ceiling to floor murals. “What _is_ this place?” He breathes, in awe.

“Long story,” Theo grunts, pressing his shoulder against the door jamb on the opposite side and peeking his head out to check whether or not the coast is clear. “Tell you later.”

 —

And he does.

He has plenty of time, once they steal a Jeep from the mercs chasing them and make it back to the boat— _Liam’s_ boat—anchored on the beach. Theo talks a lot when under pressure, Liam realizes, but it’s kind of nice. A low, rumbling baritone that’s almost calming as the relic hunter catches him up on everything since they’d left him behind at the docks.

He’s hesitant at first, but a quick “you owe me one” has him folding like a weak poker hand. Besides, Liam is sort of all he has now, which is a morbid, cruel thought that sits uncomfortably in his chest for quite a long while as they drive.

Theo tells him about the German U-boat, and the dead man with a pocket full of Spanish coins and naval map adorned with hastily scribbled coordinates in the middle of the Pacific. He tells him about El Dorado, the treasure Francis Drake discovered and sailed across the world to keep secret.

And, carefully, he tells him about Gerard Argent, the rich crime lord who’d come for a debt Derek owed him. He tells him about the ruthless second in command, Monroe, who’d been the one to put a bullet in him when he couldn’t cough up the money.

Liam’s familiar enough with the names—he’s heard it whispered in some of the seediest back alleys and bars, the kind only the most desperate of adventure-hungry history chasers frequent. Not that he counts himself among them, or anything.

The most terrifying thing is that both Gerard and Monroe know where the treasure is. They know where the Spanish took El Dorado, and are probably on their way there now.

Liam’s pretty sure he should feel scared. Truthfully, part of him does. This isn’t going to be a vacation, and it certainly isn’t going to be easy. A race for riches never is, especially when your opponents aren’t afraid to get blood on their hands.

But it’s going to be one hell of a story for his show, probably the greatest find he’ll ever be able to put on his resume, and, well—he glances over at Theo, at the hard lines of his face, at the barely contained anguish burning in his eyes as he stares at the road ahead—if they manage to piss off some assholes when they sweep the treasure out from under their noses, then Liam definitely thinks it’s worth it.

It’s a sentiment Theo doesn’t seem to share. Not about going after the treasure, but about _Liam_ accompanying him, a fact that doesn’t come up until the next night.

They’re in a small, quaint hotel back in Manta, having a light dinner and going over Theo’s—Drake’s map. They’d pushed as hard as they could up the coast after reaching the spot on the beach where the relic hunters had left Liam’s boat to move inland through the rainforest, and they’d driven well into the dark in order to reach the docks he’d been left on days prior. Liam had used the last of his funds to get them hotel rooms, not wanting to contact Mason just yet for fear of spooking Theo into leaving him again.

“Go it!” Theo taps the map in front of him, the one he’s got splayed out on the coffee table in his room. “Right there.”

Liam leans over to look, handheld camera propped open in one hand. He aims it at the spot just above Theo’s finger. “Middle of the ocean?”

“There’s bound to be an island there,” Theo explains, tone implying it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s not far off the coast—there’s hundreds of land masses out there too small for a map, but that’s gotta be where Francis Drake went.”

Liam tilts his head, admiring the determined gleam in Theo’s eyes, the way his free hand absently plays with the ring around his neck. “With the treasure.”

That seems to snap him out of it, because then Theo’s blinking, his nod shaky and sort of uncertain. “With the treasure,” he says, giving the map a crooked smile and folding it back up. “Right. I’m gonna refuel the plane, and then first thing in the morning, I’m taking off.”

The seaplane Derek had rescued them in the other day is also stationed in down. But it’s not the use of the plane that has Liam raising an eyebrow—it’s Theo’s tone.

“Why does that sound like you plan on leaving me behind, Mr. Drake?” Liam asks, very aware of how sarcastic the name sounds in his mouth. “ _Again_.”

Theo pauses, map midway to his back pocket, a look of surprise etched onto his face. He glances over, gaze flickering between Liam and the camera still recording in his hand. “No, I just—” He huffs an awkward laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to assume that you’d want to come along.”

“Are you kidding me?” Liam scoffs, mouth open wide in a grin and eyes bright. “You’re going after El Dorado. Even if there’s nothing there, this will still be one _hell_ of a story.”

And if he got enough footage while they were looking, well, he might even get enough content to stretch it to two episodes.

“Fair enough.” Theo’s lips turns up at one corner, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to continue. Then his mouth snaps shut and he swallows hard.

Noting the change in mood, and the tension now coiling the taller man’s shoulders like a loaded spring, Liam flicks the recording switch off. He lays the camera down carefully. He’s looked out of sorts all day, having shown up to lunch pretty damn hungover. And last night, when Liam had given him the key to one of the rooms, he’d taken off without so much as a thank you, a dark shadow cast over his face.

“You okay?” Liam asks, standing up and leaning into Theo’s space.

“Fine,” the man lies. Obviously. “I just—the sooner I find the bastards who—”

He pauses, inhaling sharply before letting loose a long, drawn-out sigh. “I need to see this through, that’s all.”

Something in Liam’s chest twists viciously. Getting into a plane with a grieving, borderline homicidal treasure hunter who was chasing the ghost of El Dorado was probably going to be the stupidest thing Liam had ever done, but when had sensible decisions ever gotten him good ratings?

Besides, life was short. And Mason was always telling him he needed a little more adventure in his life. “Well, then,” Liam says, smile gentle and reassuring. “Shall we, Mr. Drake?”

Theo chuckles, cheeks colouring as he shakes his head. “Theo,” he says. “Just Theo’s fine.”

“Alright.” Liam hooks the camera to the clip on his belt, gesturing towards the door. “Lead on, Theo.”

 —

 Liam can almost hear Mason’s disapproving hysteria in the back of his head.

_When I said you needed more adventure in your life, I didn’t mean getting shot out of a plane in the middle of the Pacific Ocean above an unmarked island!_

He wonders who’s likely to kill him first, honestly, if he ever makes it off this island alive. Lydia, for all the money he’s costing her, or Mason, for the sanity and years off his life. Maybe they’d even do it together.

Or maybe the pirates crawling all over this island will do it for them.

But he’d just jumped out of a burning plane with little more than a camera, a gun and a parachute, so he feels pretty comfortable flirting with death at the moment. After all, this is going to be the biggest story of the year, maybe even if his career. It’s huge!

El Dorado, competing treasure hunters, pirates, long-lost colonies… and Liam’s gotten it all on film. He grins, sweeping his camera across the detailed images scrawled on the wall he’s standing before.

Who knew Francis Drake had been such a graffiti artist?

Liam pauses the recording, clipping the camera back to his belt. He’s pretty sure he can double back and cut around the cliffs to get to the tower he saw in Drake’s map. And maybe, hopefully, he’ll cross paths with Theo on the way.

The relic hunter had pushed him out of the plane first, parachute in hand, but Liam’s sure he’d made it out safely afterwards. The distant, not-infrequent gunfire that he keeps hearing has to be a sign that he’s around—but so far, he hasn’t seen him. Liam knows he could just stay put, see if he catches up but… with all these pirates roaming around, it doesn’t seem like the best idea. And it sounds pretty damn boring.

So instead, with adrenaline thrumming beneath his skin, Liam heads back the way he’d come, going slow and quiet to avoid detection. He has no clue if any of the pirates have noticed him; he only knows a handful of words in Indonesian, which really isn’t enough to translate the conversations he’s picked up on over walls and behind cover. Thus far, though, he’s managed to avoid anyone shooting at him, so he must be doing something right.

Liam steps out of the doorway, back into the sunlight—and almost immediately jumps backwards, pressing himself flat against the wall as a bunch of pirates go running past, shouting to each other. He holds his breath, waiting for one of them to glance his way and open fire. But they keep going, around the corner and out of sight.

Liam holds still, waiting, until the sounds of their shouting fade into nothing and his heartbeat steadies in his throat. “That was close,” he whispers.

This time, when he steps outside, it’s all clear. Glancing around, Liam hurries over to the cliffs. If Drake’s map is right, he’ll need to east.

Climbing along the cliffs isn’t the safest route, but it keeps him away from the assholes with guns, and mostly out of sight. He does it slowly, carefully, and it’s still faster than climbing over and through the island’s ruins.

Before long, Liam finds himself looking up at the square tower from Drake’s map. He can’t see a clear way in from here, though, but he doesn’t mind. Just means more footage for him, considering he was in a new, unexplored part of the island.

“The remains of the _great tower_ offer a clear view of the entire bay,” Liam narrates, panning the camera up the tower. The red blinking light tells him he’s recording, so he slowly turns in place, panning across the bay and zooming towards the far shore. “From here, Drake would have been able to see the entire eastern coast of the island. But what was he looking for? Some trace of El Dorado’s location? And if so—did he find it?”

His camera picks up a massive, stately structure along the water, with a domed roof and sweeping balconies. Judging by it’s design, Liam figures it must’ve been the old customs house for the colony. But it’s got almost an entire fleet of sunken ships in front of it, masts and prows still jutting out of the relatively shallow water.  

“What happened here?” Liam murmurs, more to himself than his imagined audience.

A moment later, a gun cracks behind him, and Liam yelps. He nearly drops his camera, diving for cover as a second shot fires. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ He’s such an idiot, letting himself get so distracted that he’d left himself wide open.

It’s not until he’s safely behind a rock, breaths heaving his whole chest, that he realizes the explosion that follows isn’t anywhere near him. Neither is the gunfire that follows, crackling like ill-gotten fireworks.

Cautiously, he pokes his head up in time to see a pair of pirates go running towards the tower, which is now sporting a new hole in one of the balconies.

“Oh no…,” Liam mutters. Were they shooting at Theo? Was he…

He flicks the camera off, trading it for his pistol, then carefully creeping back towards the tower. Liam crouches low, behind a half blown-out wall, and watches as one of the pirates kicks some rubble aside. He says something to his companion, who reluctantly reaches down and helps him drag Theo upright.

Liam’s heart stutters in his chest, a frantic, panicked beat. _Shit._

Theo’s head lolls against his chest, and from where Liam’s sitting, he can’t see whether or not he’s breathing. But if they’re bothering to move him, then he has to be alive, right?

He has to be…

Steeling his nerves, Liam decides there’s only one way to find out. He waits until they’ve turned the corner, dragging the unconscious man off, then trails after them, keeping a careful distance as they pick their way back through the ruins.

Eventually, they disappear into one of the large, half-ruined courtyards and pass through a heavy door at the far end.

Liam counts to one hundred, using it both as a timer and to steady his breathing, before he tip-toes across the yard and tries the door.

“Locked,” he whines, wrinkling his nose. “Of course.”

Glancing up, he notes the crossed-key symbol over the door and frowns.

He’d come this way earlier, if he remembers right. There’s… prison cells inside this part of the building, which makes it a good a place to stash Theo as any.

It means he _has_ to be alive.

Theo’s going to owe him so much when he breaks him out, Liam reasons, heading for the windows. It takes him several long moments to scale up, but the second he makes it to the top, he’s rewarded with the sight of a slumped relic hunter in the corner of the very same cell he’s hanging in the window of.

Liam grins, and chews on his bottom lip, concentrating on keeping both feet cemented and one hand gripped tightly around the iron bars of the window as he knocks a piece of stone loose.

And then he lobs it into the cell, aiming for Theo’s head.

“Buh!” The man jolts awake with a gasp, limbs flailing about as he sits up abruptly.

Liam snickers. “I know I’m not a big time treasure hunter like you, but I doubt you’re gonna find El Dorado in there.”

He sounds as smug as he feels when Theo looks up at him, gaze incredulous and awed. “How’d you get yourself into this mess?”

Theo’s nose wrinkles, and he reaches a hand to his temple, applying pressure. “Trying to rescue you, as a matter of fact.”

Liam raises a brow, a strange sort of fluttering in his chest that’s absolutely ridiculous. “That’s so sweet.” He tilts his head, admiring the disheveled, fluffy look about him and wondering, not for the first time since they met, if Theo can go a day without getting covered in grime. “Guess it’s my turn to repay the favour, huh?”

“No offense,” Theo sigh, “but unless pick-pocketing keys is a hidden talent of yours, or if you’ve been holding out on some hardcore explosives…”

Liam’s thumb runs along the length of one of the iron bars, and he chews on his bottom lip as his other hand scrapes across the stone wall. Sandstone, stucco, with a hint of limestone mortar, if he’s not mistaken.

He’s really going to have to thank Mason for setting up that _Architects of the New World_ episode if this works the way he thinks it will. He just needs something to give it a good, strong tug… like maybe the winch he’d seen attached the front of one of the Jeeps in the courtyard.

“Liam?” Theo calls, and his gaze snaps up to meet the other man’s. It’s not groggy anymore, or disheartened—his eyes are wide with panic. Liam can hear voices, down the hall. “Run!”

“I’ll be right back for you,” he promises, and then clambers back down the way he came, a little urgency in his step now.

The yelling starts a moment later, filtering out through the window above him. Distinctly female, sounding far too pleased with herself. Liam wonders if it’s Monroe, but he doesn’t have the time to eavesdrop, let alone dwell on it. He has a rescue to plan.

 —

Liam’s chuckling, flicking water droplets from his hair as he trails Theo across the ruined courtyard. They’ve managed to escape the pirates—a pack of hired hounds, working for someone they called La Loba—several times now. Tearing the wall off Theo’s cell had only been the beginning, and what had followed had been an intense chase across the cliffs and ruins of the island, Liam’s rusty Jeep skills put to the test as Theo hung off the back, firing at their pursuers.

And then, when they’d finally been cornered with nowhere else to go, and La Loba had been bearing down on them, Liam had driven them off said cliff into the waters below.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he says, breathless.

“I know,” Theo replies, glancing over his shoulder. “You’ve said that. Several times, actually. I can’t believe you’re this cool about life or death experiences. You _sure_ you’re just a historian, dude?”

_How much trouble could one little historian be?_

Liam had heard the words, spoken to Theo in a haughty tone, just before he’d attached the hook from the Jeep’s winch and ripped the window off his cell. La Loba had sounded dead set on hunting him down and putting a bullet in his head, just because he’d accompanied Theo to the island.

He rolls his eyes. “Well, it was better than trying to negotiate with your friend.”

“She’s definitely not my friend,” Theo scoffs, crouching down to pick up a fallen pistol. Liam does his best not to look at the fresh corpse nearby. “Her and Derek used to… work together. Closely.”

The eyeroll and look he throws Liam over his shoulder is enough to get his point across. _Oh_. His cheeks heat.

“And now she wants to kill you?” Liam has to wonder what changed to make _that_ happen. “Did you uh—steal her boyfriend?”

There’s a light huff of breath that Liam thinks might be a barely contained laugh, and a shake of Theo’s head. “Derek was like an older brother to me. I’m pretty sure Kate’s only gunning for me so hard because she didn’t get to shoot him herself.”

He stands, slipping a fresh clip into his holster before walking towards the gate on the far side of the courtyard. Liam hangs back, watching as he starts cranking the gate open, then moves forward once he sees the other side, following closely on Theo’s heels. The last thing they need is to get separated again.

On the other side is a dead end, no more sprawling ruins, just a canal filled with water, winding away in either direction. Theo sighs, audibly, running a hand through his hair and looking around, already searching for another exit that doesn’t involve the jetski moored at the end of the little dock. “This was a mistake.”

“No kidding,” Liam laughs, keeping his tone light. One of them has to stay positive, apparently. “I should’ve turned _before_ the bridge.”

He drops down to sit on a collapsed pillar, and feels the strain when both his knees pop. His legs are killing him. He goes running most morning, and hits the gym after the office three times a week, but there’s quite a bit of difference between jogging on a San Francisco sidewalk and spending half the day scrambling around a forgotten settlement.

Theo manages a sarcastic chuckle. “Very funny.”

 _Someone’s_ clearly in a grumpy mood.

Before he can second guess himself, Liam unclips the camera from it’s holster, flipping the view-screen open. “Come here a minute,” he says, fingers snagging in the back of Theo’s henley as the other man paces past. “I want to show you something.”

Theo half-turns, eyes narrowing in on the device in Liam’s hand. His browse rise nearly into his hairline. “That thing still _works_?”

“Yep,” Liam beams, letting go of the other man’s shirt in favor of tilting the camera towards him with both hands. “Solar-powered and waterproof. Best thing I’ve ever bought. Anyway, check it out.”

Theo decides to humour him, taking a seat behind him. Very close behind him, which Liam appreciates more than is probably wise. He can feel the heat rolling off him in waves, and clears his throat, hitting play. He narrates as the footage starts. “Okay, see this building in the harbor? That’s where all the boats going into the colony would’ve unloaded their cargo. So, if the El Dorado treasure came to this island, it would’ve had to have come through here.”

It isn’t much, but they’ve long since lost the trail. This might be exactly what they need.

“Wait a minute, what—what was that?” Theo asks. He reaches around, tilting the screen to face him better, his fingers warm against Liam’s own.

“What?” He blinks up at the other man.

“Rewind it.” Liam does, frowning. Maybe Theo had seen something he’d missed? Some clue to the treasure? He does do this for a living, so he probably— “Wait, stop.”

Liam hits the button, and the footage freezes on a close-up of a speedboat in the harbor. Theo taps at the screen, a relieved breath blowing over the side of Liam’s face at the close proximity. “That’s our ticket out of here. C’mon.”

And then he’s up and on the move again—but Liam’s hesitant to follow.

“Our ticket out of here?” He repeats, frowning. “Are you giving up?”

Theo skids to a stop, just a few feet shy of earlier his spot at Liam’s side. His hands are balled into fists, and he looks incredulous that Liam would suggest otherwise. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Liam, but we’re kind of outnumbered.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “We’re doing fine so far!” He plays with the camera absently, not wanting to meet Theo’s gaze. He fast-forwards to the current spot in the footage.

“Look,” Theo huffs. “I don’t need your bullet-riddled corpse on my conscience, okay? Let’s fucking go.”

“Oh, please.” Liam’s pretty sure his eyes are going to get stuck on the roof of his skull at this rate. He thinks he’s made it pretty clear by now that he can handle himself, so for Theo to suggest otherwise is just insulting. Hell, he’s the one who saved _Theo’s_ sorry ass after he got captured. He doesn’t know what he’s doing half as well as the other man does, but he isn’t useless, and he certainly isn’t helpless. “You quit if you want to, but don’t use me as an excuse.”

Theo’s laugh is bitter and tight as he paces a few steps away before abruptly whirling around to face Liam. “Fine!” He throws his hands into the air, practically sneering. “It’s me, okay? I’m quitting. Are you coming or not?”

“So that’s it then,” Liam huffs, standing to face him. He squares his shoulders, voice pitching dangerously towards frustration and anger. He can feel it needling at him beneath his skin. “You’re just gonna forget about the treasure and forget about Drake?”

Theo bares his teeth in a mirthless grin, upper lip peeling back in something akin to a snarl. “Fuck—this is _not_ worth dying over!” He hisses, jabbing a finger squarely at Liam’s chest. The pin prick of contact burns nearly as much as the haunted look in his eyes. He very much resembles the state he’d been in when Liam had come upon him in the forest, after Derek’s death.

It’s enough to make him give in without a fight. “Okay,” he nods, searching Theo’s face. Liam feels bad for having pushed the issue—after all, he’s already lost one person on this quest. Can’t exactly blame him for wanting to bail.  “Okay, we’ll go.”

Theo looks away, hands on his hips, still radiating tension. So Liam steps towards him, close enough that can’t avoid his gaze. “Listen, either way we have to head back to the harbor,” he points out softly. When Theo still doesn’t respond, Liam reaches out, curling his fingers around the other man’s forearm gently. “Don’t worry about it, okay? We can argue about it later, it’ll be great.”

There’s false bravado and cheer to his voice, and he knows it. He just hopes it’s enough to lift the relic hunter’s spirits. Liam all but skips past him, towards the jetski.

“Wait,” Theo speaks up, finally, and Liam turns back to face him, smiling hopefully. There’s a half-glare on his face, determination burning in his gaze. “This time, I drive.”

Liam blinks, staring as he stalks past, headed for the jetski. “Ooookay.”

 _Man, he’s cranky._ Pity Liam can’t set him up with juice and a nap, like he does whenever he’s babysitting his nephew; it certainly seems like Theo could use it. Wordlessly, he clips his camera to his belt and trails after him.

 —

 Theo’s mood finally improves about an hour later, when they’re crossing through the customs house and stumble across a room sprawling with maps and ship manifests. The bookcases climb all the way to the ceiling, and there’s about an inch of dust on every one, but Theo’s eyes still light up like the fourth of July as they walk in and he processes what he’s seeing, slow and careful.

Liam starts filming the moment the relic hunter’s a little bit ahead of him, giving the room a cursory wide angle and keeping Theo at the edge. He pans back just as the man picks up a book, blowing on the cover and coughing a little when it rebounds into his face. His mouth is hung wide in wonder as he thumbs through the thick tome.

“They’re in pretty good shape,” he muses, placing it back where he got it. He turns, making a beeline for the massive oak table in the middle of the room. There’s a dozen or so of the manifest books open, scattered about and covering large maps. The pages are curled and yellowed by time, but Theo still walks over, a renewed vigor in his step.

He fishes a lighter from his pocket, leaning towards the candle in the middle and setting it alight before he gets to work.

His fingers brush across the first one, wiping a thin line through the dust, before he moves on to the next, eyes scanning the page in front of him. On the third book, there’s a sharp intake of breath, and a chuckle that sounds far less strained than any yet. It has Liam turning, spinning the camera back as he approaches the table himself. “What is it?”

“The Esperanza,” Theo reads aloud. His words are a little slower than normal, and as Liam approaches, camera trained on the words just above where Theo’s finger is hovering, he realizes it’s because he’s translating as he goes. “Sailed from Callao, Peru, carrying 800 bars of gold, 1200 silver. Emeralds… golden masks, ornaments…”

“16th century Spanish? Not just a grave robber after all, huh?” Delight flutters in Liam’s chest. He’s impressed.

Theo continues as if he hasn’t heard him, finger trailing further down the page. “Right here. Gold state, weight: 20 arrobas.”

Liam’s eyes widen. “That’s over five hundred pounds.”

“That’s gotta be it.” There’s a light dancing in Theo’s eyes, one that Liam hasn’t seen in days. Not since they’d first opened that coffin in the middle of the ocean, and he’d gotten his hands on Drake’s journal.

He flips the page, and gasps, eyes growing wide—but Liam’s paying more attention to the gentle slope of his nose, and the way the flickering candlelight casts shadows over his face. The way his lips part to whisper an incredulous, awed, “there you are…”

The way his free hand fiddles with the ring around his neck—and the way the engraving on it catches in the light, scraping across the pad of Theo’s thumb.

He doesn’t even know what brings him to ask. “Someone special?” He tilts his chin towards the ring, and at the sound of his voice, Theo looks up, frowning.

“What?” Then his brain seems to catch up with his movements, and he glances at the ring quickly. “Oh, yeah. I guess you could say that.”

The pit of Liam’s stomach feels strange, like it’s filled with snakes, writhing uncomfortably. He lets out a nervous chuckle. “I had you pegged as more of a _woman-in-every-port_ kinda guy.”

He’s willing his mouth to shut up with every fibre of his being. This is the most irrelevant thing to the case right now.

Theo’s mouth curves up at one end, and there’s a light dusting of colour across his cheeks as he laughs. “Not really my type,” he shrugs, and the words wrap themselves somewhere deep in Liam’s chest. He swallows thickly, and slides the viewfinder on his camera closed, effectively pausing the recording for now.

Theo holds the ring between this thumb and forefinger, turning his body to face Liam and stepping close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off the relic hunter for the second time in as many hours. “This is, ah, Francis Drake’s ring,” Theo tells him, holding it out for Liam to see. “I—y’know—kind of inherited it.”  

Instinctively, he reaches out to meet him, fingers curling around the ring and plucking it from Theo’s grasp. Seeing as how it’s still looped around his neck on a leather string, it brings them far closer together than they’ve been yet.

“ _Sic Parvis Magna_ ,” Liam reads the engraving, and the words stir something in his memory, from an old latin class in college. He’d mostly studied classics from the Greeks and Romans, and though the YouTube series that had gotten him famous covered tons of different time periods, the entire first season of his show had been about the Greeks, seeing as it was his forte. “Greatness…”

“From small beginnings—it was his motto,” Theo finishes for him, smiling. It’s all teeth, and his brows are raised, like he’s impressed Liam was even able to start it. He’s sure the relic hunter is used to being the smartest person in the room. Sure enough, the look that washes over his face looks smug. “Check out the date.”

Liam obliges, tilting the ring up so he can look at the engraving on the inside, instead. “January 29th… 1596? No way… That’s—”

“One day _after_ he supposedly died,” Theo grins.

But there’s more. Liam leans in, lifting onto his toes a little and squinting. There’s a series of numbers and periods that look vaguely familiar. “Are these coordinates?”

“Yep. To a place right off the coast of Panama.”

Liam looks up and sees the utter _delight_ in Theo’s green eyes, flecked with gold. He pulls back a little, realizing he can notice that very detail because he’s _way_ too far into the man’s personal space. Something which he hasn’t objected to, strangely enough.

“That’s how you found the coffin,” Liam hums, dropping back onto his heels, but not stepping away. Part of him wants to push his luck. He smiles, eyes searching Theo’s face. “He left it as a clue to pinpoint the exact burial sight—for someone clever enough to figure it out.”

Theo’s easy, flattered grin is slow, and when he huffs out a laugh, Liam can feel it on his face. “Nice try,” he says, and then there’s a little tug between his fingers as the man rescues his ring from Liam’s grasp, stepping away. “But we’re still going for that boat.”

Liam deflates a little, but still picks up his camera in time to film Theo ripping a page from the book—the one he’d been looking at when Liam was more than a little distracted. On it is a sketch of a large, fearsome-looking statue with a complicated pattern of symbols and what looks sort of like the face of an Oni?

It’s all kinds of creepy, and sets the hair rising on the back of Liam’s neck.

“This is the closest we’re getting to El Dorado, I’m afraid,” Theo says, before pocketing the sketch and moving towards the exist.

Suppressing a shiver, Liam follows.

 —

 Even though they promise to stay together, Liam tells Theo to swim on over and get the boat without him. He doesn’t look very impressed when he says it, and Liam flashes him the most supportive grin and he explains that he’ll get in the way—he’s not that great of a swimmer, and the extra time will give him an opportunity to get some final footage shot.

He’d sworn to stay put, even thrown up a flat-palmed hand in honor. Theo had simply looked at him with a crooked smile and left with a half-hearted “whatever that means” under his breath.

Liam thinks for sure that someone in Theo’s career path would’ve recognized the _swear to tell the truth_ gesture, but maybe he’d simply never been arrested in a country where they bothered with that sort of thing.

He isn’t lying about the extra footage, though. The view from this side of the harbor is gorgeous, with the huge, vintage buildings and the way they’ve aged beautifully here, forgotten by a civilization that doesn’t quite exist anymore. It takes his breath away as he pans the camera across the water, currently sparkling under the sunlight. It’ll make for some gorgeous, scenic stock footage, the kind of thing he can easily narrate over when the episode is—

Movement to the west catches his attention, and Liam spins, aiming the camera towards a black helicopter touching down on an outcropping. “And who do we have here?” he murmurs to himself, eyes dropping to the viewscreen as he zooms in as far as the camera will go.

Seated at the helm is a woman with dark skin and a perfectly crafted resting bitch face, the kind that sets his teeth on edge. She’s got on sunglasses and glances towards the upper level of the building she’s landed on, presumably watching the two figures that start out towards her.

One of them is an older gentleman, gingerly leaning some weight on a cane.

From what he’s heard, Liam knows these two must be Monroe and Gerard.

But it’s the third person that catches his attention. Catches it and holds it tightly, along with all of the air in Liam’s lungs. “No fucking way…,” he whispers, continuing to film as they reach the helicopter and board. Continuing even as it rises into the air and sweeps his way, getting a little too close for comfort before he thinks to duck down, into cover behind the thick, stone railing.

As it passes over the ruins he and Theo have just come through, a single thought jolts through Liam’s body, sending him springing to his feet. _I have to tell Theo._

His brain working a mile a minute, he clips the camera to his belt and hurries towards the gate he’d seen Theo disappear through earlier. He’s not anywhere in sight, but there’s a half-collapsed balcony on the other side of the courtyard that certainly looks like his calling card, and the distant sound of gunfire ahead.

“Fuck,” Liam curses, then breaks into a run.

 —

 He doesn’t catch up to Theo until the docks.

The relic hunter’s crouched low behind a fallen pillar, gun in hand, clearly ready to spring out and take on the large group of pirates ahead single-handed. Given the state of the rotunda Liam’s just come through, he’s sure he’s more than capable of doing it, too—but Liam has something far more important to show him, first.

He slides in next to him, staying out of sight as he offers Theo a grin and a wink. “Hey.”

The man does a literal double-take, so fierce that were it not for their current predicament, Liam would’ve laughed horrendously loudly. The suppressed amusement must be evident on his face, because Theo’s face pinches with a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to see something,” Liam offers, holding up the camera. The view-screen is out, pointing in Theo’s direction.

“Is now _really_ the best time?” Theo hisses.

“Trust me—” Liam starts, but the other man ignores him, huffing and moving to lift above their cover.

Liam reaches out, digging his fingers into Theo’s empty holster and giving it one good, solid yank downwards. It earns him a nasty glare that he manages to ignore, moving his hand to clamp around Theo’s wrist, instead. “Just look.”

He hits play, having paused it seconds before the third figure had gotten onto the helicopter. He’d looked back, just the once—just as he’d stepped onto the ladder—and Liam had gotten the perfect shot.

Derek Hale’s face fills his camera screen, and beside him, he can hear Theo’s breath catch in his throat.

Liam hits pause, jabbing a finger at the screen, touching Derek’s scruffy face. “Hello!” He says brightly, looking up to see Theo’s not moving, just staring, mouth agape. “He’s alive.”

“Huh,” Theo says, rather dumbly. It’s barely even a word, more of a surprised grunt. He leans back, looking skyward with his head resting against the pillar they’re using as cover. Then, all at once, it seems to click for him. There’s a half aborted laugh in his throat, and his free hand comes up to cover his mouth. “Holy shit, he’s alive.”

“Yeah,” Liam nods, even though the other man’s words are muffled by his hand. He watches as Theo drops it slowly, smiling at nothing in particular, shaking his head with disbelief.

“Derek’s alive…”

There’s a weird sort of nagging in the back of Liam’s mind, a little voice that’s been insistently pointing out the obvious since he watched Derek board that helicopter after Gerard and Monroe with his own two eyes. “Hey, Theo? Not to rain on your parade, or anything, but…”

Theo’s gaze drops sharply, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t.”

Liam winces. “I’m just saying, it’s not like they’re holding him at gunpoint, or anything…”

“I fucking said _don’t_ ,” Theo snaps, eyes blazing. “Look, I trust Derek with my life, okay? We’ve been through a lot of shit together, and I know he’s a lot of things… but a traitor isn’t one of them. Not to me. _Never_ to me.”

The faith in Theo’s voice is so genuine, akin to Liam defending Mason and Corey to anyone who’s ever said a bad word against them in their whole lives together. _Family_ , Liam realizes.

“Okay,” Liam nods, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes scan the hard lines of Theo’s face, smoothing out with relief. “So what do we do?”

Ever quick on his feet, Theo pulls the map of the ruins from his pocket and unfolds it, spreading it flat on top of the pillar between them. “Which way were they headed?”

“Uhh,” Liam’s face pinches as he tries to connect the map layout to what he’d witnessed from the balcony earlier. “North? Yeah, definitely north. Towards the mountains.”

“Okay, that’s gotta be the monastery,” Theo says, refolding the map. He exhales heavily, his shoulders sagging a little before he looks up, offering Liam an excited smile and oh— _this_ is the brightest Liam’s seen him in days. There’s a wild, untamed excitement burning in his eyes, a restless energy about him.

 _This_ is the handsome relic hunter that had practically accosted Liam on set a handful of weeks ago with the promise of adventure, fortune and fame.

“Well?” Theo taps the back of his hand against Liam’s elbow. “Let’s go get him!”

“Theo…,” Liam trails off, and there’s a sinking feeling in his gut when it dims the other man’s mood around the edges.

Those edges sharpen as he presses his lips together in a thin line. “Look, we either rescue him, or we beat the shit out of him,” Theo says, before pausing thoughtfully. He snorts, then goes on. “I might just beat the shit out of him anyway, for being such an idiot. Either way, we—I have to find him.”

The little correction is clear. He’s giving Liam an out, offering to spare him this mess that Derek’s presence has now dug them into. Like he did back at the hotel in Manta, and even that day at the dock, Liam realizes. He’s keeping him out danger, in his own way.

But Liam’s no quitter, and he’s certainly not about to let Theo do this himself. After all, when it all blows up in his face, who else will be there to bail him out?

“Okay,” Liam nods, resolute. “Let’s do this.”

There’s something soft about the uptilt of Theo’s lips and the slope of his brows, before he turns away, clearing his throat.

He does his best not to think about it as they move forward.

—

They find Derek in the library, and he looks remarkably good for a dead man.

He’s in the middle of telling the two guards watching him about one hell of a woman he’d met in Mexico, who’d just as soon kiss you as kill you with the shotgun she packed, when Liam and Theo filter in on the second level, through a window. They’re as quiet as can be, pausing to listen as the guards accuse Derek of stalling for time, of purposely not doing the one thing he’d been brought here to do—find the damn treasure.

Theo offers Liam a _told you so_ grin, flipping the safety on his pistol off. With his other hand, he lifts three fingers, signalling a countdown.

The two mercenaries go down without much fuss, and the second he spots them, Derek’s face lights up. They clamber down to the main floor, and the second he’s on solid ground, Derek launches himself at Theo, practically lifting the other man off the ground in a hug. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“I could say the same,” Theo laughs, clapping a hand to the junction between Derek’s shoulder and neck once he’s set down and grinning at him. It’s a strangely intimate gesture, and Liam’s face heats as he stands there, fiddling with the clip that holds his camera to his belt. He feels wholly out of place.

“So, you brought the kid after all, huh?”

Liam’s gaze whips up to see Derek smirking at him. “The _kid_?” He scoffs, brows furrowing. The insult lands in the middle of his chest, boiling in his blood. Where does he get off—after all the trouble they’d gone to—

“Hey, if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be getting rescued right now,” Theo points, stepping between them almost protectively. The move doesn’t surprise Liam so much as the fact that Theo’s back is to him, which means _he’s_ the one he’s coming to the defense of.

Still, it just kind of slips out. “If this _is_ a rescue.”

Derek looks taken aback for a moment, sort of like he’s been punched in the gut, and he looks between them, eyes narrowing at Theo. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Theo tilts his head, and though Liam can barely see the side of his face from where he’s standing, his tone comes out soft and hesitant, if a little awkward. “You gotta admit, Derek, this all looks a little shady. I mean, you tipping those guys off?”

“And miraculously showing up alive,” Liam mutters, and Theo shoots him a look that he can’t quite read.

Derek reacts with a frown. “Listen, Gerard—Gerard had a contract out on me, and I needed to buy some time. I know it was stupid but—I mean, I didn’t exactly figure they’d try and track us.”

“Derek, we would have been headed home with the treasure by now if you had just _for once_ kept your mouth shut,” Theo sighs.

“And you might’ve thought about checking for a pulse before running off and leaving me for dead!” Derek counters, eyes blazing. His chest puffs up in his frustration, and with his significant height, he makes for a towering presence. Theo deflates almost instantly, but Liam squares his shoulders, glaring. Unconvinced.

“So how is it you’re standing here breathing?” He snips.

Derek’s eyes slide to him, searching, and his temper simmers down. The corner of his mouth pulls up, and from the breast pocket of his shirt he pulls a small book—Drake’s journal, from the coffin.

Both men gasp, and Theo steps forward, plucking it from Derek’s hands. Liam steps closer, peering around the relic hunter’s shoulder to see the book. It’s got a bullet hole right in the center of it, but it doesn’t go all the way through.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. There’s _no way_ he could’ve faked that, it’s too much of a freak accident. Which means he has to be telling the truth.

“Yeah,” Derek chuckles.

“Can’t believe Drake took a bullet for you,” Theo says, voice somewhere between relief and awe. “I thought this kinda shit only happened it movies.”

“Well, let me tell you—fucking hurts a lot more than they show you on the big screen,” Derek says, and that gets them all laughing. Tension bleeds from the room, from between the three of them, and Derek tells them what he’s been up to since he came to.

How he’s done his best to mislead them, to send them off on wild goose chases after red herrings, all with the intention of buying Theo some time to show up. Because he’s known since they stepped foot on this island that Theo was here, crawling through the ruins, giving them hell. It’s all the mercenaries have been able to talk about.

“He’s got a lot more of them that I figure’s normal,” Derek says, brows furrowing. “They keep coming out of the woodwork, like ants.

“Do you know who they work for?” Theo chuckles, barely suppressing a shit-eating grin. “He called _Kate_ , man.”

The older man’s face twists into a grimace. “Oh, fuck _me_.”

“Pretty sure she’s already—” Theo’s laugh is loud and almost childlike as he ducks out of the blow Derek intends for him.

“Anyway,” Derek clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I just had to bide my time, and hope that things would lead you back to me.”

His eyes slide over to Liam, and this time, they’re softer, warmer. “I guess I have you to thank for that." Liam just shrugs in response, unsure of what to say. “Kid’s gotten himself into a lot of messes over the years, and sometimes, he’s too fucking stubborn to ask for help. So I’m glad he had someone just as stubborn to keep him in line.”

“I feel like I should take offense to that,” Theo hums, throwing an arm around Liam’s shoulders and tugging him close. “But he really did save my ass, so.”

“Thanks,” Derek nods, holding out a hand to Liam. Carefully, he takes it. “And I’m sorry, considering I was the one that convinced Theo to leave you behind, back in Panama.”

“No harm done,” Liam shrugs, but it’s made difficult by Theo practically hanging off him. He glances up to see the slightly taller man smirking.

“Well, you’re part of the team now,” he tells him, voice low, and Liam’s face heats. “I’m not doing this without you.”

 —

The next few hours are a whirlwind. Liam honestly thinks he hallucinates half of it. The compound is crawling with pirates, and booby traps. Traps built from the remains of their _plane_. And El Dorado? Well…

The shit’s fucking _cursed_. Literally. Like, turned the Spanish that brought it here, and the whole colony that used to occupy the island, into some sort of zombie _ghouls_ cursed.

Just their fucking luck, right?

As for Francis Drake, well… he’d died. He’d crawled into one of the underground passages, probably to escape the horrors El Dorado had unleashed upon his crew and colony, and he’d wasted away.

“So much for greatness,” Theo had muttered, face overcast in shadows from the flickering torch in Liam’s hand. “Wasted his life… for nothing.”

The bitterness and disappointment on Theo’s face as he’d pulled the ring from his neck and laid it on his ancestor’s corpse had broken Liam’s heart a little. It hadn’t sounded like he’d simply been talking about Drake in that moment. He didn’t know how long Theo had been searching for Francis Drake and his forgotten legacy, but Liam had a feeling, looking at the anguish etched into every line of his face, that it had been quite a bit part of him.

Maybe that’s why he’d picked up the ring and pocketed it. Because he just couldn’t imagine all of it being for naught. Sure, they weren’t making it out of here with the treasure—but answers were better than nothing, weren’t they? He’d gotten a story, and Theo had gotten closure.

Or at least, they will be, if they make it out of here alive.

If _Liam_ makes it out of here alive. And currently, locked in a radio control room, knowing that there’s a small army of those _things_ waiting hungrily on the other side of the barred door…

He shivers, trying not to think about it.

He doesn’t want to know how long he’s been left waiting here, pacing the room, throwing furtive glances out the window every time he stalks past it. Theo left through it some time ago, making a jump to scale pipes and scaffolding that Liam knew he couldn’t reach and promising to return and rescue him.

Unlike Derek, who’s still hopefully tucked away in a hidden room beneath the library, Liam doesn’t have the same kind of patience to wait. Left alone with his thoughts, it’s all he can do not to imagine the worst scenarios for the relic hunter. All of which hurt a lot more than he figures they should, for the short amount of time they’ve known each other.

But it doesn’t exactly _feel_ that short, considering all they’ve been through. Trekking across two jungles and ruins of ancient civilizations, watching each other’s backs all the while; crawling through subterranean passages of old and narrowly escaping cursed Spanish zombies.

There hasn’t been any banging on the door in ages, but he’s seen enough of those things crawling around on the far side of the dock to keep him on edge. Liam’s pretty sure they can’t climb their way up and through the window he’d smashed to let Theo escape, but he isn’t willing to bet his life on it. Hence, the nervous pacing.

He completes another two circuits of the room before he finally caves and glances down at his watch. Theo’s been gone for a little over thirty minutes, and so far, there’s been no sign of the power returning or the elevator across the room working. Unpleasant as the thought is, he really does need to start figuring out what to do if the other man doesn’t come back. Grimacing, Liam knows that his only option is to head back into the caves and hope for another way out.

Which… isn’t really much of a plan. “C’mon, Theo,” he mutters. “Where are you?”

He completes another half circuit of the room before he gets some sort of answer.

The elevator lets out a long, loud beep, and then starts making weird grinding noises. The light above it turns bright green. “Oh, thank god,” Liam sighs, shoving his gun into his belt and scurrying over to it.

Though the button doesn’t do anything when he presses it, he’s sure he can see movement down below in the dark shaft. It brings a relieved smile to his lips. _He did it._

Now all Theo has to do is come back to him, and together they’d head for the surface, collect Derek, and get the hell off this rock. Gerard and Monroe could have their fucking gold. Nothing’s worth this.

Something slams loudly into the door behind him, and Liam jumps nearly a foot into the air, yelping. Clamping both hands over his mouth, he spins to face the door. _Fuck no. No no no, those things couldn’t be back. Please. They were almost out of here!_

Another slam, followed by muffled shouting that brings Liam’s panicked train of thought to a stuttering halt. The monsters haven’t ever spoken, just growled and hissed. And those definitely sound like _human_ voices, bickering back and forth on the other side of the door.

Liam knows it can’t be Theo and Derek. They’d have called out to him, asked him to open the door for them. Which means that whoever’s on the other side of that door is most definitely going to spell trouble for him. Either of the Argents, Monroe, or their soldiers… Liam knows he can’t take them all on alone. And jumping will only get him killed.

Which leaves him with only one option, and it’s certainly not one that he likes.

Shuddering, Liam draws his gun, wincing as the door bends inwards under the next blow, hinges creaking. He sets the weapon down on the console behind him, then steps away from it, out of reach and back towards the table in the center of the room. Maybe, if he’s lucky, they’ll think that he’s stupid for leaving it sitting around, and they’ll underestimate him. Maybe they won’t keep as close an eye on him, and maybe, just maybe, it’ll present him with an opportunity to escape.

Any hope he has leaves him the moment the door blows inwards, crashing to the ground. Not because of the mass of black-clad soldiers that stand in the yawning hallway beyond, pointing their guns at him—but because a moment later, Gerard storms into the room, Monroe hot on his heels.

“Well, well,” the old man drawls, vicious smile pulling at his lips. “Mr. Dunbar.”

Liam keeps his hands up, but pinches his face into a fierce scowl.

“I’m surprised they left you alone up here.” Behind him, soldiers spill into the room, Monroe barking orders at them in Spanish. When Liam doesn’t respond, Gerard sighs and waves a hand at him. “Bring him with us. He might be useful.”

He steps past him with a dismissive gesture, eyes scanning the charts on the table. He lets loose a pleased chuckle a moment later, and when Liam turns to see why, he freezes, the barrel of Monroe’s gun pressed to his chest.

“Did Drake really just leave these here?” Gerard says, and there’s a rustling of papers. “No wonder he and Hale are so bad at this sort of thing. We can use this.”

 _Use what?_ What the hell has he been sitting in a room with this whole time?

“Tamora, bring him here.”

Monroe’s grip is strong and painful around his arm as she drags him to follow the old man, to stand in front of the open window as he points across the expanse of the warehouse. There, walking through the door in the other control room, is Theo.

He freezes the moment he looks up and spots them with Liam, and his face falls, eyes widening in shock. Monroe snickers, and shoves Liam up against the glass. Theo’s face hardens into a furious glare that’s obvious even from this distance.

Gerard fiddles with the microphone on the console in front of him. “Can you hear me over there?” He asks, tone casual. Liam watches Theo’s mouth move, and his brows furrow. He searches the console on his end frantically, pressing buttons.

There’s a smug grin curving across Gerard’s mouth, and a matching one on Monroe’s lips. Both are distracted, staring at the man they’ve finally managed to get the upper hand on. He doesn’t know what they have planned, but his heart jackhammers in his chest. He has to warn Theo.

“No microphone on your end?” Gerard continues, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Oh, what a pit—”

Liam lunges, jerking free of Monroe’s loose grasp. He snatches the mic from Gerard, pulse thundering in his ears. “Theo, get out of there before— _Fuck!_ ”

Monroe wrenches on his hair, pulling him back, and then the air goes out of his lungs as the woman socks him square in the stomach. Liam doubles over, coughing and clinging to the console in order to stay upright. No one’s holding him anymore, but he can’t fucking breathe, much less run.

Gerard sighs, sounding annoyed. “Really, Tamora, if you can’t maintain control over one little historian…”

“It won’t happen again,” Monroe hisses, grabbing Liam’s arm with far more force this time. Her nails dig into his skin as she yanks him to his feet. There’s a cold bite of metal as the woman presses her gun to his jaw. “Trust me.”

Liam has no choice but to freeze, watching as Gerard monologues, taunting Theo about the maps and El Dorado. The relic hunter is left to glare, helpless to do anything else and _god_ , Liam hates that look on his face. Hates that he’s the cause of it, that he’d been careless and weak enough to get himself stuck in this situation.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Gerard continues, smugness in his voice again. “We’re going to borrow Mr. Dunbar for a little while longer. Just to keep you and your partner from trying anything clever.”

His finger hovers over the mic switch, and a nasty grin spreads across his features. “So long, Theo. It’s been fun.”

And then he’s being dragged back, towards the elevator. “Tie his hands,” Gerard says, watching two of his soldiers pry the rusted gate open. “If he’s a problem, we’ll leave him for the beasts.”

Liam’s heart plummets into his stomach, and he barely suppresses a shudder, even as Monroe pulled his hands behind his back to tie his wrists together with rope. He knows this is going to make escaping harder, but he’s determined to figure something out. He has to.

He can’t bear the pained look on Theo’s face to be the last one he sees.

—

Gerard, as it turns, is never the one they should’ve been afraid of.

The man was far too greedy for his own good, and it had blinded him in his quest for riches. Despite the shouted protests of Liam, Theo and Derek combined when they’re all finally gathered around the golden statue of El Dorado, in a large catacomb with sunlight filtering in from the giant hole in the ceiling—Gerard still wrenches it open.

The moment Monroe tells him the gold is only a shell, that the true treasure lies within, his eyes glaze over with avarice and he all but dives for it.

The mummified corpse inside sprays dust into his face, and Gerard coughs as the virus that infected and collapsed an entire colony spreads to his lungs.

“Watch this,” Monroe whispers in Liam’s ear, and she sounds _gleeful_.

The change happens fast, almost alarming so. One moment there’s fury and betrayal burning in Gerard’s eyes, the next there’s simply hunger—an all-consuming madness. He lunges, snarling, and Monroe puts a bullet between his eyes.

Everything happens pretty fast after that.

A net drops down, wrapping around the statue as her soldiers slam it shut.

The catacomb is flooded with a wave of zombies, and Liam discovers they can in fact climb walls.

And then Monroe drags him all the way up to the surface, towards the whirring of a helicopter and the dying sun on the horizon. He’s stuffed into the back, next to a mercenary twice his size, and told to keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him. After all, he’s expendable insurance.

He does. Right up until he hears the words _Theo_ and _statue_ crackle to life over Monroe’s radio in the front seat. She snarls, glancing over her shoulder and motioning to the merc to Liam’s left.

He grunts, nods, and then hangs himself out of the side of the helicopter. Panic claws at Liam’s throat as he watches him point the machine gun down. He knows the statue is attached to the base of the helicopter, swaying beneath the aircraft as it sweeps across the sky. As the crack of gunfire cuts the air, Liam inhales sharply.

He reacts without thinking.

He swings his legs up and sideways, trying to balance himself on his hands, still tied together behind his back. Liam kicks out, with all his might, feet planted squarely against the man’s chest.

His screams rip through the air as he plummets from the helicopter, gun still firing. The bullets smash through the glass in the cockpit, and several tear into the pilot. He slams face-first into the dashboard, and the helicopter pitches forward.

“Oh, shit!” Liam yelps, a curse that combines with Monroe’s shriek in the front seat.

“You fucking idiot!” She spits, shouldering her way past the pilot’s body to get at the controls. She manages to right them, and Liam hears her frustrated grunt as she lowers their trajectory. He sees water beneath them, and a boat a little ways ahead of them.

A boat that’s coming up dangerously fast.

He can hear Monroe cursing venomously under her breath, and he knows they’re not gonna slow down in time. The helicopter lurches slightly as they crest over the edge of the boat, almost as it more weight’s dropped off, and Liam wonders if it’s the statue or Theo. He hopes it’s Theo, and that he’s okay.

Because he’s pretty sure he’s about to _not_ be.

There’s alarms blaring on the console, and shouting down below, and the last thing Liam hears as the helicopter collides with a platform at the other end of the boat is the groan of metal and the strangled scream torn from his own throat.

—

When he wakes, everything hurts. His head is pounding, there’s far too much heat at his back, and his limbs are aching in ways he didn’t think they could.

“Liam, c’mon.”

They’re also being tugged on by an unseen force.

His eyes flutter awake as he’s pulled to his feet, and he’s greeted with Theo’s worried face. He’s got fresh cuts and scrapes peppering his skin, and his touch is gentle as a hand comes to cup Liam’s face. “You alright?”

There’s fire dancing in his eyes, and Liam realizes that must be the heat behind him—the helicopter he’s just pulled him from is on fire. The thing is absolutely mangled, barely banging on the edge of the platform, shattered glass littering the ground.

His chin stings, and Liam lifts a hand to touch gingerly at it. His fingers come away stained with red, and his head swims a little. “I’m okay,” he nods, searching Theo’s face. Relief cascades over it in a wave, and his smile is hesitant but happy. “I’m—oh, _shit_.”

Over Theo’s shoulder, there’s movement. Monroe, struggling to her feet.

She looks like a mess. There’s blood staining her clothes, leaking from her nose and dripping off her chin. She’s got a shotgun in one hand, but she’s holding it wrong, like maybe something’s broken. Glancing down, Liam notices that Theo’s knuckles are split open, so that explains both their states.

“Stand back,” Theo whispers, fingers slipping from Liam’s face and pressing gently against his stomach.

Dazed, Liam obliges and steps back a few feed, blinking as he watches Theo move.

The relic hunter throws a glance at Monroe over his shoulder, then throws himself bodily against the helicopter. There’s a loud groan, but it only dips a little bit further over the edge. So Theo checks it again, shoulder slamming against the frame.

That does the trick. There’s an ear-splitting screech of metal on metal as the whole thing careens backwards, crashing into the water.

Theo steps towards him, arms reaching out and wrapping around him. He’s soaked, and Liam realizes dimly that it’s pouring rain and he’s drenched, too. Still, the embrace is warm and comforting, it feels _safe_. And even though he has a hard time focusing on much of anything with stars still blinking in and out of his vision, he sure as hell sees what Theo’s done.

The thick rope that anchored El Dorado to the underside of the helicopter snakes across the platform, past where Monroe’s standing to the statue itself. And right where her left ankle is, it loops.

“Adios, asshole,” Theo has the time to say, and the words rumble through his chest, tight against Liam’s cheek. Then, the whole line goes taught, snapping around Monroe’s ankle. She doesn’t get the chance to level the shotgun at them before her legs are swept out from under her, and she goes down, hard.

She screams and curses as them as the helicopter’s weight drags her towards the ledge, the golden statue following close behind.

All three disappear into the depths of the ocean a moment later. At least there, the statue won’t be able to hurt anyone.

Relief seeps through Liam’s bones and both men sigh. Theo’s laugh is shaky and Liam looks up, breaking out into a grin when he sees the same naked solace on the other man’s face. The bright, twinkling delight in his eyes.

They actually fucking did it! They survived, somehow. He can’t believe it.

He doesn’t know what to say.

From the way Theo’s lips part, eyes scanning Liam’s face before they snap shut again, he doesn’t seem to, either.

Thankfully, neither of them have to figure it out just yet. Liam’s ears pick up the sound of a motor, and slowly, they break apart and turn to see a boat fast approaching. His nerves get a split second to panic before Derek leans out from behind the windshield and waves, cigar held loosely in his mouth.

“Oh, thank god,” Theo breathes, stepping up to the railing and waving back. He relaxes, palms braced against the railing and shoulders spread out.

Liam settles back comfortably against the railing, looking sidelong at him with a grin. The words come a little easier now, with the space between them giving him room to breathe. “Quite a day, huh?”

“Yeah,” Theo lets out an easy laugh, eyes glittering in the sunset despite the disappointment staining his words. “Shame we’re leaving empty-handed, though.”

Liam’s ears perk up at that.

“I’m sorry about your camera,” Theo continues. He’d had to sacrifice it when he’d fallen through a rope bridge on their way across the ruins to rescue Derek. Theo had managed to grab his hand before he’d gotten too far, but he’d needed both to be able to pull him back up, and with no way to clip the camera to his belt one-handed, Liam had had no choice but to let it drop.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, shifting his position around so he’s leaning on the railing next to the other man, his right arm brushing Theo’s left. “I uh—I did manage to save one small thing, actually.”

He pulls the ring from his pocket. It’s a feat made a little more difficult because his jeans are soaked, but he steps back as he manages it, holding the leather cord in one hand, the other cupped beneath the dangling ring.

Theo’s eyes widen, and his breath hitches in his throat. “Liam…”

“I know you were disappointed when we found him but, I thought—well, what Drake did here, trying to keep the statue from ever leaving—” Liam stumbles over the words, his cheeks heating as he struggles to find the right thing to say. He pauses, looping the cord around Theo’s neck, his fingers trembling slightly around the ring at the end. “He saved people, Theo. The same way you did today. And I didn’t want you to walk away without some way of remembering that.”

Theo’s smile is soft and warm. His eyes search Liam’s face, and his mouth opens and closes several times as he seems to debate just how to answer.

“Thanks,” he whispers, finally, eyes finding Liam’s once more. There’s something swirling in the depths of green and gold that sets a current zigzagging beneath Liam’s skin, from the feather-light touch of Theo’s fingers on his elbows all the way to the pit of his stomach, and lower still.

“Yeah,” Liam nods, and the word is barely a breath. Most of it is caught in his throat as Theo leans down, intent clear in his eyes.

And then, someone whistles very loudly, down and to his left.

“You two have a funny idea of romantic!” Derek calls up to them, and they break apart to see him standing there, at the helm of the small boat he’s pulled up alongside them, grinning. There’s scrapes and dirt covering his face and arms, and his shirt’s torn in one spot.

“Derek!” Theo grins, but there’s a tightness to the word. And a slightly murderous intent in his eyes. He does _not_ look happy to have been interrupted, but Liam can’t help but chuckle.

“You look like shit,” Liam says, tone chipper. Derek laughs, loudly.

“You should see the other guys,” he winks, shotgun propped over one shoulder. With his free hand, he motions to the sea vessel. “Got us a boat!”

“Hm,” Liam hums, tapping his fingers along the railing. “I think we already have one?”

“Yeah,” Theo agrees, snickering. “A big one.”

There’s a dangerous twinkle in Derek’s eyes as he steps up to the stack of crates at the back of his little boat, the one a tarp’s been thrown over. “I think I like this one better, personally.”

He pulls the tarp back, revealing a literal _pile_ of gold, spilling out of crates and boxes. Gold jewelry, cups, coins and little statues. Anything and everything, covered in jewels.

Both men gasp, but Theo’s the first to speak. “Derek, you beautiful son of a bitch!”

“Where did you _get_ all that?” Liam asks, eyes wide.

“I borrowed it off a couple of pirates were too dead to care, really,” Derek chuckles. “Kate sends her hello.”

“Holy shit.” Theo’s laugh is loud and raucous, and the sound leaves a warmth flushing beneath Liam’s skin as the relic hunter’s hand bumps against his on the railing. “We really did it.”

—

 It’s a long trip back to Panama. Derek’s stolen boat isn’t terribly fast to begin with, and Liam’s sure the weight of all the treasure piled in the back isn’t helping.

Theo’s far less interested in it than he expects—Liam had been sure he would’ve spent the voyage back digging through boxes of gold and appraising different pieces. But he’d given it no more than a cursory glance when they’d left, and Derek is instead the one talking numbers and potential buyers.

From the sound of their conversation, it’ll take a few weeks to sell everything off.

Theo says they’ll split it three ways, a statement that seems more directed at Derek than him, but still leaves a warmth pooling in his chest. Derek doesn’t argue, at least, and Liam finds he’s perfectly fine with waiting a few weeks before heading home, especially if it means he’s not going back completely empty-handed. No story, but at least he’ll be able to repay Lydia and her studio for the losses without going bankrupt.

And he certainly isn’t going to complain about spending a few more weeks with Theo. Once he’d stopped acting like a jackass, he’d proven to be a smart, sweet, funny guy with a bit of a heroic streak. The fact that he’s easy on the eyes certainly doesn’t hurt, either. Liam likes him, and he seems to like him back, and well… he wants it to go somewhere.

Where exactly, he isn’t sure yet, but he’s kind of hoping it involves getting him out of his shirt.

Liam’s lips curve upwards at the thought as he stares up at the stars from his spot at the back of the boat, feet braced against a crate of loot and his head tipped back. He lowers his gaze from the sky at the sound of Theo’s footsteps.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down beside Liam.

“Hey,” he parrots back.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Liam nods, giving him a crooked smile. “Just tired, is all.”

Theo huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, no kidding,” he says. “Long day.”

Long _couple_ of days, really. “I thought this was pretty typical for you,” Liam teases, reaching out to elbow the other man in the side.

Theo makes a face at him. “Hey, triumphing over evil is exhausting,” he argues, and Liam’s grin softens, a little laugh escaping his lips. He notices the way Theo’s gaze lingers, flicking down to his mouth before coming back up. The relic hunter had almost kissed him back on Monroe’s ship, before Derek had interrupted, but now he almost looks _shy_ about the whole thing.

Liam, on the other hand, has no such reservations.

He leans in and kisses him, just a light brush of his lips to Theo’s. The other man blinks at him, then gives him a sweet, almost surprised smile before curling his fingers around the base of Liam’s neck and pulling him into a proper kiss. It’s certainly not the best Liam’s ever had—their lips are both chapped and salty, and the movement of the boat doesn’t help matters—but it definitely isn’t bad. And he _definitely_ wants to do it again, though maybe on solid ground and after a shower or two.

They draw back after a few moments, both grinning like idiots.

Liam fully intends to go in for another kiss, but as he starts to move forward, his body reacts without his consent, sending him into a yawn. He covers his mouth with a hand, face screwing up into a grimace. Theo snickers.

“Shut up,” he mutters, the words muffled by his hand a little.

“You weren’t kidding about being tired,” Theo says.

“Shut _up_ ,” Liam hisses, but there’s a laugh backing his words.

Theo just shakes his head, holding an arm out in a curve that Liam’s sure he’ll fit into perfectly. “C’mon,” the other man says. “It’ll be a long trip back, we may as well get some sleep.”

Liam hesitates for only half a second, before scooting over and leaning against Theo’s side, his head resting on his chest, tucking himself just beneath his chin. Theo’s arm wraps around his shoulders, and he man lets out a happy-sounding sigh that Liam can feel.

With the steady beat of Theo’s heart in his ear, Liam smiles and lets his eyes fall shut.


End file.
